Sometimes, the dark
Is the reason for the light
The pain of loneliness
Gives way to the peace
Of finding another heart
In the day to day
We move through time
Hoping for the high road
A chance to live better
Want better
Even when you live alone
In the moment
The hope is there
For a chance at more
Better
After giving everything you can
The hope is still there
A chance for understanding
A chance for love
To get moments
I suffered for
Yearned for
A lifetime of living for another
Living as someone else
Never for myself
Just me
Change meant letting go
Of the pain
Of the past
Change meant walking away
From who I was
To finally become
Who I want to be
To finally become
Me
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Shadows: Misdirected Dreams
I question the truth
As the illusion is clear
The pain shows through the mirage
Of carefully constructed images
The empty show meant to divert
To distract
From the reality
Of the real love, not the dream
The fantasy on the screen
And, even though I am the hidden
Puzzle piece still
The question lives in me
As I watch the smoke and mirrors
Shown to portray the truth
I stand there wondering
Is it false
Is it a carefully crafted glamor?
Or am I
The
Illusion?
An Original Poem By H.R. Beebe
Solitary Trek: Life Lost In Translation
Life the solitary trek
Alone in the cacophony of things, people
Searching for solace, for reason
For purpose in the meanless cavalcade of experience
An abstract journey to empty dreams
Hopeless revelry with lost expectation
Questioning rational logic as the cycle continues
The pain becomes reason
As bitter souls pursue feeling… some feeling
Amour , enmity any feeling and failing
Indifference inundates the jaded heart
Withers the optimistic perspective
Leaving husks of people that aren’t living
Aren’t savoring moments of memory
That in youth beheld wonder in each encounter, in each breath
Now , the barren mindscape a monotonous repetitive grind
As one day replays
Again and
Again and
Again.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Echos Of Eden: In The Spaces In-between
Echos of eden
In the garden of discontent
Lost innocence in the electronic spaces
Alone in the spaces between electrons and life
As the transients of the new age suffer unrequited love
Wandering aimlessly, the web of uncertainty
Seeking, searching their golden moments
Instants of connection, moments of solace
Connections of mental communion
Or physical ardor
Alone in the crowd, a soul among many
Wanting, needing …. something
A patriarchal reminisce
A matriarchal memory
Healing that empty cold experience
Or to forget the treasonous moment
And the fact they were abandoned by life
Separated by distances by languages by blood
Realizations become evidence
Evidence becomes clearity
The world is simply a grand illusion
The actual truth is it isn’t really here
At all.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Forward Toward Dawn
Chasing my dreams
Forbidden themes
Things I shouldn’t desire
Are they beyond my reach?
Conspired against me
They strive to quell the stream
Stop the flow
Force me to quit, to leave
You can’t win. Who are you to have needs?
You can’t succeed
Through the mired planes, I thread forward
By myself, I moved silently
Dark Thoughts forged by darker deeds
Forced to stand even alone
On the path of the truth
Wherever it leads
Never waver, never falter
Toward the finish, I must seek
True wisdom is not in the known
The word or the deed
It’s found in the silence
An the rustle of the leaves
An internal journey
Made just for me
“I don’t know. ” … is the beginning
Of the understanding that I need.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Memories of a Life: Lost
Tattered leaves left scattered on the floor
Remnants of things that were valuable
Signs of life that have once been present Real
Now passed usefulness just leftovers to show what was
Shattered dreams left abandoned
Hopes that never were
Nothing left to covent
Wind blowing lost ambitions away
Yellowed with age
Pieces of a life as worthless as the pieces of paper that remain
Littered among the cobwebs and dust of neglect
Mere shadows , phantoms of another time
Another place
Another life
No one left to morn it
No one left to remember it
No one left to care
Thanos has taken his due
Leaving an empty place
Where abundance once ruled
It’s all gone now
Empty
Wasted
A place that even the memories now fade
In a decade … or maybe two
Even they will pass
And
Be
Gone.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Emptiness: The Winter Darkly
Bleak the ever frost of my heart separates me
Divides me from humanity in ways I can’t yet fanthom or comprehend
Day by day, I fight to give to love to feel something..
Yet time and again words fail me, and I feel cold inside
Left bitter at the betrayal and disrespect empty
When I should have felt longing and regret
for those I lost, I felt nothing
Was it due to some trauma I endured, unaware of its effect on my psyche, my soul?
Or simply was I incapable of the full measure of love others possess?
The winter cold reflects the distance between my soul and the world
Alone in a crowd
Searching for a lifeline
Left staring into the dark mirror of my discontent
An ocean between my troubled heart and the world of light
Cast into a pit of my own experience
Left to ponder what bulwark that divides
Surrounded by beauty calling out to me
My hand stayed by that unseen force
That unkind gulf halting my chance
At normalcy
At redemption
Confounded by my own understanding
That splinter in my brain
Not just the lack
But, knowing that it stems from
A coldness perhaps I was bequeath
At birth, an inheritance of nothingness
That accompanies ones sure knowledge
Of their own humanity
And the sorrow , as you weep for your own fate
The feeling called love a spector
That to me never materializes
And so doesn’t exist at
All
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
A Moment Of Clarity
We are lost in the darkness of an uncertain world
Adrift on seas raging with the unknown
Each moment, an affirmation of our aloneness
We navigate this journey alway afraid of our own choices
Left or right, we ponder in earnest as if our lives hang in the balance
The stress of not knowing is the rub
The Sword of Damocles is always there waiting to end us
As we imagine our own failure of reason
The truth in the thought, the proof in the idea
Failure is only a choice, success as well
The truth is that you choose your path, create your fate
Reality is in the doing, not the image.. not in the fear
Destiny is in our grasp.. when you understand this, you win
And move on.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Encounters
Sometimes, we are lost in the moment
Caught up in the flow
Adrift in our own existence
Too focused to know
We have moved forward
But, not yet perceived
That we left behind that moment
And those we thought we need
Touching spirits for an instant
To gain insight
To gain hope
Then faded those connections
Like mist at dawn
Burned away by the rising sun
Until just memories remain
And in time, even they are gone
Need is a powerful thing
A motivator grasping for gain
Until we understand
We already have everything
The emptiness is an illusion
The encounter preordained
The experience was inevitable
As the Spring rain
Life is a series of moments
That has been given since time began
To be savioured and learned from
Then, it is released as you move on
Those we encounter…meet along the path
They were sent there to teach a lesson
Abundance is within you
It’s always been in the palm of your hand.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
The Wicked Game
Sundered heart, the dreams yet dreamt
A future in the foggy twilight of days yet spent
A purpose undefined, with love not yet given
In moments of passion of a night’s unspent
Will it be her, or will she not be
I question the choices presented before me
Love peace or wealth yet gained
As I am left to dwell and contemplate
Youth, beauty, a passion unwrought
Loyalty, promise, and the prizes I’ve sought
A lifetime leads to this point.. this path
The way is shrouded, so many desires to sate
In the stillness of my own troubled mind
I wonder the irony of the fated design
After a lifetime of silence, suddenly granted a muse
Given a gift, a blessing to live life anew
Choices to make, pathways to choose
So much to gain, so much to lose
Am I wicked for wanting it all?
After so much emptiness, can I breach the wall
To my own heaven, eden unbound
To my personal salvation,
Released by the unforgiving fate
My soul had been bound.
Beauty of the spirit
Beauty of the soul
A Beauty yet experienced
A Beauty to behold
Moments in peace
In love in light
Choices unchosen
Wonders of forbidden nights
I stand in the quiet times
Contemplating times yet to come
Lives yet experienced
Love yet to be won
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
